


Alcyone

by lazulum



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Established Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulum/pseuds/lazulum
Summary: Natsume spends a lot of time researching obscure ways to get better at magic, and Tsumugi wishes they'd consider basic things first, like eating food. (He's definitely not one to talk)





	Alcyone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cephea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephea/gifts).



> happy birthday to both ceph and natsume. u already know this, but i hope u appreciate my first recent actual au that's not just some alternate future/post-canon thing, and the only time i'm ever gonna write switch fic, and also post it on ao3 after i was determined not to. this is like the least imaginative title ever, but i just need to post this already, so don't be surprised if i change it later (tho i probably won't bother honestly). im trying to wind down on writing for enstars, and this is going to be one of my last for this fandom, so... enjoy ~
> 
> also a huge thanks to @soliari for helping me edit as always

 “Sora, don’t go too far from me! It’d be bad if we got separated,” Tsumugi yells, trudging slowly through the ankle-deep snow as Sora runs ahead in the bleak landscape. In between crouching to clearing off snow from around the base of some trees, he hops up to lower branches, sitting and waiting for Tsumugi to catch up.

“I won’t! I still haven’t found any yet!” Sora yells back, jumping down and sinking into fresh snow.

Tsumugi continues following the bootprints Sora left as he ducks down under a low-hanging branch. After he stops to check that tree as well, he sighs when he doesn’t find what Natsume sent them for, a puff of breath fading into the winter air.

He can’t stay gloomy for too long with a ray of sunlight peeking out past the blanket of cloud, barely illuminating ice crystals on top of the untouched snow. Even with the starkness of mostly naked branches against the cloudy sky, the chill of it all is piercing in a fresh way. Spring might be rebirth, but the clear shock of cold breathes its own kind of life.

The sun's appearance is brief, and Sora finds his way back to him. In his now bare hand he’s clutching a tiny sprig of something, his spare mitten barely stuffed into and hanging out of his coat pocket.

“Is this what coach wanted us to find?” He asks, nose and cheeks red from exertion. While Natsume is definitely more familiar with herbs and whatnot, Tsumugi isn’t so clueless as to mistake the particular shape of leaf, and its pale green, almost grey colour.

“I think you’ve got it. Was it from that pine tree further up? You were having so much fun, I forgot to tell you it’s mostly found around those types,” Tsumugi admits, unfolding a small cloth bag from inside his own pocket. In Natsume’s explicit instructions, they were only supposed to store the plant in that to preserve its magical properties. Their superstition about it is cute, Tsumugi thinks.

“Eh, what, you could’ve told me that sooner,” Sora pouts, letting it fall in the bag sullenly. “Just because you think you’re an old person with no energy, doesn’t mean I’m a young person with unlimited energy.”

After Tsumugi laughs apologetically, they resume their quest. Thankfully the tree Sora found has more than enough to fill the bag.

“Did coach say what they’re making with this? Is it tea?” Sora asks, humming alongside Tsumugi as they walk back.

“It might’ve been tea… there’s a few uses for this plant, so I don’t know what their plans are, though. This is a lot, so it’ll probably go into some spell...”

Sora stops to grab some snow, forming it worryingly into the shape of a ball. At least he’s wearing both mittens now, so even if he turns it into a weapon, his hands won't be cold from it.

“Hihi… coach might’ve made us get this, but I bet they’re planning to make something for us,” he comments.

“What makes you think that?”

Looking at the finished snowball in his grasp, Sora smiles.

“Their colour. I forgot to mention, it’s nice being out here. It’s so clear, but not overwhelming.”

“Is that why you’ve been so keen on helping Natsume with this kind of job lately? I’m not sure why I had to go along this time. Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with you, but it really took us most of the day...”

The endlessly messy antique store of Tsumugi’s weighs on his mind, though it might be more accurate to call it a glorified collection turned into a business. Above it is their living space, a separate, small apartment connected by a narrow, out-of-view staircase.

With Natsume more focused on books and magic, not much gets done when he leaves, and there’s no point in bringing it up just to argue. As much as they might complain about Tsumugi’s lack of organization, they’re just as bad, treating the space like their own personal library when looking for more information on historical spells and local herbs with all the books that’ve piled up over time. It’s probably how they found out about the one Tsumugi’s now carrying back.

“I have my own ambitions, not just helping coach. But I like helping! And I’m always having fun learning lots of stuff.”

Sora aims the snowball for a nearby tree with a cheeky smile, but misses. Tsumugi’s mostly glad it didn’t end up hitting him, but there’s no way to avoid getting pulled into making some more snowballs along with Sora after, and eventually it turns into a snowman project instead.

While the clouds seem like they might release snow at any moment, it only comforts Tsumugi. The cold, fresh forest blanketed in pure white is a kind of stasis, isolating them in their own little world, and he doesn’t mind staying a bit longer in it to aid Sora’s laughter.

\---  
 

When they’re finally back, Sora bursts into the already crammed space of their home. The bag of herbs is held triumphantly in his hand, Tsumugi coming in much quieter behind him to step out of his boots, where Sora’s were tossed off haphazardly at the door.

Taking off his scarf, Tsumugi can sense Sora’s energy dim.

“Is something wrong-?” Tsumugi starts to ask, unbuttoning his coat and walking up behind Sora. He interrupts himself when he sees Natsume- hunched over the kitchen table, asleep with their arms sprawled on various open books- and a smile replaces his slight worry before he turns back to hang up his coat.

“Coaaach,” Sora prods, walking over. He sets the bag down in time for Natsume to stir, offering a wide grin when they sleepily blink over their arm at him. They don't take long to sit up and stretch their arms out.

“We spent so long out there you must feel chilled to the bone, Sora. I’ll start on some tea for us,” Tsumugi says, now walking into the kitchen to take out a tin of tea leaves, but Natsume stands up, the chair grating behind them against the wood floor.

“I didn’t tell you to take all **day**. There’s hot chocolate here, you can treat yourself to **that** ,” Natsume interjects, walking behind Tsumugi to grab a pot sitting on the corner of the stove.

“Oh, hot chocolate! I’m sorry, I saw it but I thought since you’d been asleep, maybe it was cold-”

“Whatever, you’re back now so it doesn’t matter, just drink **it**.”

They fill a mug up and hand it to Tsumugi, forcefully enough at his chest that it almost splashes. Sora follows quickly enough, grinning into his as he leans back against the counter and takes a sip. While they enjoy the feeling of warmth spreading throughout their bodies, Natsume walks back to the table, closing the books they’d laid out so they can stack them and make more room.

“Thank you for this, Natsume,” Tsumugi says, looking from the mug to them. They pause, looking back and unintentionally catching his eye.

“It was already made before, so there’s no point in thanking **me** ,” Natsume turns away quickly, sitting down and dragging the bag of herbs over to look inside it.

After the first few sips, Sora attempts to down the rest of it in a few gulps and succeeds, somehow. Tsumugi joins them shortly at the table, still clutching the mug and relishing in its heat. Opposite to Sora, Tsumugi figures he’ll take his time drinking this one.

The remnants of Natsume’s magic linger around the pot, and Tsumugi wonders how long ago Natsume was expecting them back. At least this particular spell worked for once, though he didn’t want to insult their magic skills too much, and he’s content to watch on fondly as Natsume explains more about the plant to Sora.

## \---

After spending the morning trying to clean up the store a bit, Tsumugi’s still nowhere near figuring out how exactly to organize all of what’s gathered here. Catching the hands of an old-style clock, he thinks it’s about time Natsume should be coming down to help with, or more likely judge, his efforts.

Remembering Natsume spurs him to look for something they’d recently received, until he realizes he’d decided to put it up high on one of the various shelves. Reluctantly, he drags out something that’s more of a death trap than a ladder.

It’s in that moment that he hears Natsume’s footsteps coming down from the space above. Tsumugi glances at them coming in with a tray, a teapot and two cups on top of it.

“I’m amazed there’s a clear spot for **once** ,” Natsume says, setting the tray down on their only coffee table. As they’d noted, it’s the only space not cluttered with the trinkets that Tsumugi considers ‘lucky items,’ or old books and random magic objects of varying quality and purpose.

“Maybe I shouldn’t complain because some of this is useful- unlike you, be care **ful**.”

They walk up to where Tsumugi is wobbling on the unsafe ladder, steadying it and frowning, but all Tsumugi does is offer an empty-headed smile.

“Thanks, you really saved me,” he says as he finally steps off of it onto steady ground. Natsume turns, walking back to the tea.

“Don’t complain when you fall off that dangerous **thing**. You’re so uselessly tall, why do you even need to be up **there**.”

“I’ll be fine, it wouldn’t be the first time I fell, but...” Tsumugi stops, setting the object on the table beside Natsume’s set-up. “You sound bitter. Is it the tea?”

“What is **that**?” They ask instead, ignoring his comment.

“Oh, this, I forgot to tell you. Someone dropped it off, and I think they mentioned it’s a really intricate thing for magic.”

Natsume looks at it suspiciously, like Tsumugi’s playing a prank on them.

“Your shop isn’t the local garbage dump, you **know** ,” they comment. “If you keep gathering all of this simply because people want to throw it out, there won’t be anything of **worth**. Though this might be interest **ing**.”

Tsumugi smiles in anticipation as Natsume reaches over to grab and inspect the object in question. It’s a long, dark lacquer box with gold writing across the lid.

“You don’t need to worry, I’m not such a doormat that I’ll start accepting actual trash from people. But still-”

“If you quote that at me one more time, I’ll kill you and throw half of this crap **out** ,” Natsume huffs.

It’s a familiar routine between them, and it barely holds any weight now when Natsume’s still curiously staring at the new second-hand box.

“It isn’t just someone’s trash. You aren’t very inconspicuous, especially with your business and talent. Lots of different people gravitate here for you. It’s nice.“

What he just said only seems to float in the space around Natsume, their full attention on delicately tracing the writing. The box has definitely seen some years, with chips off of the protective coating, and it’s peculiar to see the simple gold calligraphy as the only embellishment on it.

“So what’s in **this**.”

“I thought you could figure it out.”

The following look Natsume gives Tsumugi makes him figure they might hit him with it, but they don’t, looking back at it as the challenge it presents.

“If that’s how you want to be, then **fine**.” Trying to open the lid shows it won’t budge, and after a few more frustrated tries, Natsume goes back to staring at the inscription.

“If you really can’t figure it out, I’ll help-” Tsumugi tries, but Natsume turns and walks a step away.

“I’ve got it, so if you would stop smothering **me** ,” they respond, and once again they go to trace the writing. This time their eyes are closed in focus, though, and a knowing smile graces Tsumugi’s face as vines seem to sprout from out of nowhere, wrapped around the box. They’re also inscripted, but obviously through magic, and they untangle themselves at Natsume’s interference, drawing back to form a border around the writing.

With evident pride, Natsume smiles, and they break the focus of their magic to take the lid off. In the box is a fan, dark with more gold detail.

They’re interrupted before they get a chance to take it out, stumbling a step backward and swaying. Trying not to yell, Tsumugi rushes forward, a tentative grasp on Natsume’s shoulders to make sure they don’t fall over.

“... Did you eat breakfast yet?”

“I don’t... want to hear that from **you**.”

Normally, Natsume’s already sitting when they do something magic-related, but it slipped Tsumugi’s mind this time. That still doesn’t distract from the lack of food in either of them. Somehow, Tsumugi manages to sit them down on the couch, taking the box and now separate lid out of their hands and replacing it with a cup of tea.

“While you recover from using magic on an empty stomach, I’ll go make breakfast- well, lunch,” Tsumugi says cheerily.

“Don’t… Take too **long**...” Is all Natsume can manage before they take a sip from the cup, failing to stubbornly sit up any longer before slumping back against the couch cushions.

When Tsumugi comes back with another tray, this time with food, Natsume’s holding the fan open and stroking along its ridges, their cup long empty and left on the table.

“You didn’t **say** … this fan helps channel ma **gic** ,” they comment, quieter than normal.

They shut it, setting it back in the box and into their lap to clear space for the second tray. While they try to not have more than tea in the shop in terms of food, Tsumugi wasn’t about to haul Natsume up the steep, old steps to their apartment.

“I thought you’d be excited. Did any customers come while I was upstairs?” He asks, reaching over to hand Natsume a bowl of soba, along with a pair of chopstick.

“No. Not a single **one** ,” Natsume answers, leaving Tsumugi to sigh while they grab some noodles, blowing on it. He starts on his own food, not to be a hypocrite after chiding Natsume on their lack of eating, but it’s awkward sitting on a nearby stool he brought over. Natsume doesn’t leave him be for long.

“I’m not sure why you’re sitting on that, it looks almost unnatu **ral** , there’s still space here on the **couch**. You’re making the food taste **bad** ,” they say, moving over pointedly. Tsumugi just shakes his head.

“Well, I can bring over an actual chair if it bothers you that badly, but it’d be too crowded for both of us to eat, I think?”

Natsume pauses, and Tsumugi can almost hear the slow gears in their heading turning before they drop the topic and settle back into eating. As much as they’d gotten used to each other, it’d be too annoying trying to eat while squished together like that. It doesn’t take them long to finish the simple meal, and as Tsumugi stands up to gather the leftover dishes, Natsume stands up too.

“My energy is back, so let me take this up **stairs**.” Tsumugi can’t object when they’re quick to grab the tray, and he figures this is a fair trade for the effort of cooking.

“If you’re offering. But there’s still the tray of tea-”

“I’ll take that **too**. There may be someone coming into the shop soon, a customer, so try to compose your **self**.”

Eerily, like a premonition after this whole time of quiet, the door opens, setting off the chime of the doorbell. Tsumugi’s attention is immediately diverted, letting Natsume take care of cleaning up as they said they would.

The customer is a local, but not one accustomed to Tsumugi’s store. He’s more than happy to explain as much as possible, inevitably ramblng about several topics until finally arriving at what the customer came in for.

After Tsumugi waves a polite goodbye, careful to shut the door behind them against the cool winter air, he turns to see Natsume once again drinking tea on the couch.

“Did you know that person was going to arrive then?” Tsumugi questions, putting some things back into their temporary spot until further inevitable attempts at organization.

“I’m not a fortune teller for no **thing** ,” they say, taking another sip of tea.

“Yes, but you almost passed out, and- it wasn’t just opening the box that you used magic on today,” Tsumugi breathes, fitting a piece of the puzzle together as he sets the last thing back. “Please don’t be so reckless.”

“It’s not like I was expecting you to give me such an extravagant **gift**.”

Tsumugi knows he’s been caught, too, but he can’t help but laugh. He also can’t escape the glower Natsume gives him over their cup, steam still rising from it.

“It’s the same as always, isn’t it,” Tsumugi says, smile warm. Natsume’s silent, setting the tea down to pick up the fan and open it again, and Tsumugi’s satisfied at the delicate way their gaze lingers along the pattern, featuring something similar to the gold vines protecting the lacquer box.

“If it was always the same, there wouldn’t be a need for fortune telling. Or maybe even magic it **self** ,” Natsume states, cutting through the silence. They set the fan back in its box, standing up to head where Tsumugi’s standing.

“What, no, I meant, even though-”

“If there’s anything you should be talking about, it’s the words that give the gift true mea **ning**.”

“I guess I didn’t get to say it with you almost fainting, huh,” Tsumugi muses. Natsume’s eyes narrow.

“Sorry, sorry! Okay, what I meant to say, was… happy birthday.”

It feels almost silly, having waited this long, but warmth mixes with nerves in his stomach. He turns to face Natsume, and also makes sure to wave a hand towards the front door, expending a bit of extra energy to lock it. The sign attached to it flips to mark the store as ‘closed’, saving the moment just in case.

“I should’ve said this before, but it’s a bit nerve-wracking, you know-”

“No, I don’t know, but I do know it won’t do you any good to keep putting it **off** ,” they cut in flatly, and Tsumugi laughs, lightly, but not completely humorous.

“I always feel lucky that we’ve gotten to spend another year together…” He trails, reaching to hold Natsume’s hand, and the unamused but mostly neutral expression on their face softens to embarrassed surprise- not completely evident, but who would Tsumugi be if he couldn’t at least notice that.

“And so, I’m really looking forward to spending another year with you, if you’ll have me,” Tsumugi finishes, and Natsume’s grip on his hand tightens, pulling him closer.

“This isn’t New Years, where you already said the same simple-minded **thing**.”

Even though Natsume’s shorter, their eyes still pierce into his, feeling as if they’re only an inch away.

“If you don’t like it I can find something better to say-”

“I don’t **mind**.”

The pressure of their gaze is eased from Tsumugi when they close their eyes, only to be replaced with the pressure of their lips against his, warm and bitter from the tea they’ve been drinking all afternoon. They step back to drag Tsumugi with them, making him lean further down as they thread their fingers together.

As generally weak as Natsume’s magic is, Tsumugi can feel the barest current spread to him, almost mesmerizing. If anything, the real secret isn’t that their magic is weak, but that their energy seeps out like this; little enough that it isn’t inherently harmful, but actually attempting to use magic is a different matter. For now, the essence of it continues to drift along his skin, and he tries not to shiver.

“Y-you surprised me,” Tsumugi says after, looking down softly at their intertwined hands.  

“I’m not sure what there is to be surprised **about** \- Unless you think I don’t love you enough to want to kiss **you** , even on my birth **day** ,” they respond, almost in a mutter.

“Ah, that’s not it-”

“If there’s anything **else** , it can wait because Sora’s going to be here **soon** ,” Natsume interrupts, pulling their hand from Tsumugi’s. “I invited him to try the tea that you both helped **gather** , but even if that wasn’t the **case** , he would’ve still come for today’s e **vent**.”

Before either of them can say another word, the front door rattles, and Tsumugi looks in time to spot a flash of blond through the window.

“It’s locked? With a spell? I can break it easy, but it’d be bad if-”

Sora’s voice is cut off by Tsumugi releasing the lock, the door springing open.

“Hello, Sora here! I brought cake, and a present, happy birthday coach!”

Sora has the cake in a box, and Tsumugi grabs it to set down before anything can happen to it. Almost sparkling, Sora also hands Natsume a small box, but this one is square and doesn’t have any tricks to it. It’s simply wrapped, and they move to sit on the couch before tearing the paper off and removing the lid with extra care.

“It’s a pretty stone, right? Hina and I picked it out, so it’s a joint present from both of us,” Sora explains, full of pride.

“That’s nice, does it have any special properties? Or what kind is it?” Tsumugi asks, and Sora doesn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t remember! Um, I think it got written down somewhere, but I forgot it. We just picked it because it has a colour that reminds me of coach. It’s really warm.”

Holding it in their hand, Natsume closes their eyes for a moment, then looks back at Sora.

“You’re right, it’s very **warm**. This will definitely **help**. Thank you, Sora,” they say, smiling, and while Tsumugi is glad, he also thinks it would’ve been nice to hear the same words. Then again, the ghost of a current lingers on his hand, of Natsume’s energy, an unending gift that surpasses any thanks. He can’t complain when it’s enough luck to last his entire life, no matter any other hardship.


End file.
